


A Meeting

by MazWroteAFicForOnce



Series: Carter-Reese Solutions [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV), The Spies Who Loved Her -Katrina Jackson
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23970988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MazWroteAFicForOnce/pseuds/MazWroteAFicForOnce
Summary: John Carter-Reese used to work for the Agency, now he's more a thorn in Monica's side.This is my first foray into prose in a long time, and even longer since my last fic. Its short and corny and was a lot of fun to write.All errors are my own
Series: Carter-Reese Solutions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734487
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	A Meeting

"Monica, I didn't know you were in the country. I would have met you at the airport." John smiled the way he always did, small and smug, secure in the knowledge that his smokey voice and killer cheekbones would let him get away with most things. Not with Monica Peters; she could only be charmed out of sense by two people, and they were both shopping for lingerie and stilettos. Her lips didn't move from their hard line, though she allowed a single eyebrow to rise ever so slightly, for old times' sake. "John, we discussed this." 

He stood, unfolding all 6 and some feet of him with an easy grace that spoke to too many years of experience. He walked around her, brushing his fingers along her shoulder. How did she ever find him anything but irritating? She turned; John Carter-Reese was not a man to have out of your line of sight. He picked up the jug from his coffee machine and raised it in silent offering. She didn't dignify it with a response; 'old times sake' could only go so far after all. He shrugged, affecting a level of nonchalance she knew for a fact he never felt and poured himself a cup.

Monica waited, wondering what obscenely expensive scrap of leather or lace Kierra and Lane would be spending their last field bonuses on, whilst John took his sweet time pouring in milk and sugar. He was trying to get her to break and ask him again - not that she really asked the first time - because their interactions were always power plays. Because power plays had generally ended up with him tongue deep in her and balls deep in Lane and that had always been a mistake. He smiled a touch wider, the shit eating sparkle in his eyes showing that he knew exactly what he was doing and precidely where her mind went. He took a drink, not breaking eye contact for a moment. She stared back, taking in the lines around his blue-grey eyes, his fresher-than-it-should-be tan, and the severe line of his eyebrows. She waited. He waited. She moderated her breathing, lest he confuse her frustration for lust. It was definitely frustration, no doubt about that. His eyes flicked down to her lips for a second and he swallowed uncomfortably. She raised her eyebrow in triumph. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Fine, I -" There was a knock at the door half a second before a harassed looking white man with side parted ash blonde hair and a hideous paisley tie poked his head around the door. "Sorry Mr Carter-Reese, I tried to get rid of them but they insisted they knew Ms Peters and -"

"John! It's been a while," the accent was Texan, broad and obnoxious and Monica resisted the urge to smile. Lane thickened his accent purely because it pissed John off. He never believed the man was actually Texan. In fact, Monica wasn't sure if he believe Lane was even American. 

John was almost glad Lane covered up his defeat. Monica was better than him, always had been, not that he'd ever admit it. And damn if he didn't want to break every HR guideline with her on his desk. Maybe not the one about drug use in the office though, unless she was into that now? Anyway, not the point. The fake-Texan barged his way into his office, holding a few shopping bags for the kinds of stores Monica generally wasn't into. Which said they had a new playmate, a fact John always found interesting. "Lane, get out of my office before you break and/or fuck something." Lane threw back his head and laughed before depositing himself in the chair next to his wife. 

"Are you offering?"

"To break you? Always."

"Well damn if you're not my favourite person right now. Come on sweet girl, we do have work to do." Lane directed that statement towards the still open door. John turned to see a short Black woman in 5 inch heels and a slightly too short for work skirt talking - flirting? - with Ada, the shy data analyst who barely said two words to him for the first month she worked. He thought it was because he was tall, white and male - all things a tiny Nigerian lesbian had no business trusting - but she was almost as standoffish with Joss, and everyone liked Joss. Yet, here she was, giggling inanely with a woman she, presumably, didn't know. This was someone he had to meet. 'Sweet girl' straightened up and flounced in with a tablet in her arm. Her nails were long and painted gunmetal grey to match her vneck sweater which showed slightly too much cleavage for work. She stopped in front of John and looked up at him with an overtly flirtatious smile on her arrestingly pretty face. She smelled like cinnamon and leather, which deserved one of him more charming smiles. "So you're John Carter-Reese?" she looked him up and down before turning to Lane. They shared a look John couldn't quite decipher, though he was very distracted by the deep berry shade on her lips. She turned back and offered her hand. "Kierra Ward, administrative support." They shook, her fingertips lingering on the sensitive skin just inside his wrist. Oh, she was good.

Kierra turned away from John and was about to sit in Lane's lap, before Monica corrected her with a careful blink and slight frown. Not here, not now, not when they had a busted operation and about a hundred lost man hours to fix. Kierra flirting with John was distracting enough, seeing her thighs over Lane's lap and his big hand splayed across the small of her back would have made concentrating on the matter at hand almost impossible. She leaned against John's desk instead.

Lane fixed John with his broadest, most irritating grin. Well this will be one way to get to the point, if not Monica's favourite. "So, why'd you fuck up our operation? If you wanted Monica's attention that bad, you could have just asked me." John closed him eyes and took a deep breath; Lane always got under his skin. Monica watched his shoulders, his hips, the flex of his hands. She didn't want to end another Reese meeting with a shootout. They're so much harder to cover up in England. He drained his mug, revealing the long column of his throat, before crossing his arms and relaxing against the table. No shootout. Yet. "I wasn't aware you had one. The Agency doesn't exactly keep it's former employees in the loop."

Lane laughed, too loud to be real. "Then I can't imagine what a private security contractor in Manchester would be doing fucking up human traffickers in the Phillipines. Nice tan, by the way," Kierra tapped the tablet screen a few times before turning it in her hands - Monica had long given up trying to analyse why she found that of all things sexy - and showing John the surveillance footage of a masked individual in an impeccably tailored suit fighting a half dozen men in a warehouse and winning. John bent over to watch the footage for a few seconds, hands in his pockets, looked up to wink at Kierra who of course responded with an entirely fithy smile, and straightened up with a shrug. "Can't say I know who that is. My guess is he got tired of waiting for halfway corrupt and altogether useless governmental bodies to do anything, so decided to take action. And thanks, Joss and I spent a long weekend in Nice. I can supply the receipts if you'd like and I'm sure the hotel will have security footage." He turned to Kierra, his most charming smile on his face. Monica almost rolled her eyes. "So, Kierra? Or do you prefer Sweet Girl? Are you a sweet girl?" 

Kierra swept her jet black hair over her shoulder and Monica watched John's eyes glide up the line of her neck. Kierra smiled with all her teeth. "I'm only sweet for the Peters, Mr Carter-Reese. For you, I'm Miss Ward, til you know me better."

He stood up straight and sauntered toward Kierra, his head cocked slightly and tilting his lips in the barely there smile Monica knew brought more than one future partner to his and Joss' bed. "And how -" Monica stuck out her hand to stop him before he got too close. Not because he'd do anything per se, more because she didn't want Kierra to think fucking him was an actual option. He looked down at her for a moment, triumph written all over his face. He continued, "And how would I get to know you better?"

Kierra tapped her index finger against her lower lip in a gesture that could only be described as 'seductively pensive'. "By telling us everything you found out and rescuing about a hundred hours of work you screwed up, Mr Carter-Reese." John chuckled, genuinely suprised even though he had no right to be. As if anyone Monica would bring into his office could be so easily distracted. "I can't say that I know anything, considering I don't hold a valid visa for the Philippines and blowing up warehouses is largely illegal. But I'm sure a concerned citizen will pass on an anonymous tip about trafficked domestic workers being used as drug mules within the next few days. Now, how about we all catch up like we used to? I'm sure Joss will love you, Kierra." Kierra looked to Monica, lust obvious on her face. She'd seen the pictures in Jocelyn Carter's file, and of course she'd love to fuck her. The woman - with her perfectly arched eyebrows, brown skin, and truly incredible ass - was sex on legs. Hell, Monica considered saying yes for half a second, especially upon seeing the desire in Lane's eyes. But sleeping with John literally never ended well, even if it included his wicked smart and prickly but charming wife. Lane saw the look on her face and shrugged at John. "Answer's the same as it always is John, got to be a no. Joss is always welcome, she's a peach, but you drag trouble with you and not the kind we like."

As John waved the trio - and they were definitely a trio - out of his office, Monica turned to him with that same hard stare he loved. "We're not leaving the country until we hear from the 'concerned citizen'. Don't make us visit you again." 

"Promises, promises." The line of her mouth hardened even more and he drank in the sight. He'd regret things going to far sideways with her - and Lane, by extension - but there was no way he could have stayed with the Agency, Besides, he got to see her more often now. He watched Kierra saunter towards the elavators with a wink at Ada and a hand in Lane's back pocket. That skirt really was too short for work but her legs were a sight to behold, so he understood why. He should ruin Monica's Polish operation next. It's taking them forever to disrupt the money launderers and maybe they'll bring Kierra again. She seemed to be his route back in. But first, that 'anonymous tip'. The last thing he needed was to be audited again; his accountant-cum-investor wouldnt appreciate it and Harold was a pain when he was angry.

The moment the three of them got in the taxi, Kierra traced the shell of Monica's ear with her tongue. "John seemed fun," she whispered.

Monica fixed her eyes ahead, ignoring the way Kierra's breath in her ear made her pussy tight and slick. "No." 

"Pleeeeaaaase. Mason is on assignment and -"

"We can find someone else."

"But -" Lane licked Kierra's neck and, judging by her moan and the way her eyes fluttered closed, his tongue was flicking over her pulse.

"John is trouble sweet girl. Come on, we've got at least 2 days in a hotel with almost no work to do. We'll have a great time on our own." Kierra opened her eyes and Monica brought their lips together, allowing herself to get lost in the feel of Kierra's tongue against hers. They would have fun on their own, and she'd never have to admit to Kierra how close she got to giving in.


End file.
